


Whipped Cream

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Whipped cream. Chocolate sauce. Enough said.





	

Phasma tenses her hands under the silky ligatures keeping her arms upright. Beneath her, the crinkle of the wipe-clean sheets is a riotous noise in her ears. She’s naked, and she feels his eyes slide over her. He smiles, and picks up the first bottle.

A shake, and the first kiss of his decoration is both cold and startling. He draws tight, rising circles of the whipped cream around her breasts, and the tiny tickles as the improvised cups slide down over her swells make her giggle very lightly. His fingers swipe at the worst slips, and then he watches as the white goop is taken into his mouth, and then the digits pop out, clean and shiny.

Next is a squirty tube, which isn’t so cold. Instead of a fluffy moussey blanket it’s heavy, thin line. The chocolate sauce draws over her chest and stomach, painting patterns of ownership his hand understands.

Phasma moans at the way the sauce hardens, making every breath etch into her consciousness. It isn’t stiff, or hard, it’s just… _present_. The sensation is soothing, but more so is what comes next. 

His hands sit on her waist as his tongue starts to bathe her clean: around in tight circles, narrowing in to the pricks of her nipples. His lips tug at her, and she gulps as he pulls most of her breast into his wide mouth. A rough swirl of his tongue, making her blood flow sharper into the suction. Her hands want into his hair, but she can do nothing but urge him on with her words. Harder, harder, sending a pooling heat into her core, between her thighs. She’s going to leak to the sheets more than the sauce will, and she moans harder at the thought.

Across, and he slurps her chest free of the light dressing. He sucks hard enough that it stings, and the thought of pink kiss-pull marks pressing into her armour on her breasts has her shuck in breath hard. More. More. 

His flat tongue licks from above the triangle of her hair to clean her belly, and she’s furiously grateful for the fingers slipping between her lips. He can’t put the sauce there, but she’s damp enough to grind onto his hand, to rub her clit against him. His finger and thumb pinch her proud, twisting over her like he would his own cock, she imagines, if it were as small as her inner sex. Just when it hurts too much, he thrusts two fingers inside of her, and she arches in delight as she welcomes his hand inside. 

More, she begs. More. 

His hand goes faster as he licks from her navel to her throat, and she howls as he pulls her first climax out with cruel and loving fingers. It leaves her feeling raw and open, and she collapses into the bed, making the sheets crinkle once more. 


End file.
